You forgot something, Harry
by WWT
Summary: Harry is driving Severus mad with his after supper activities. Find out just how. Severus is stirred inside by this somehow, but he's afraid a bit of how this will turn out. Might he actually care for someone? Rated just in case I spice up future chapters
1. ch 1: Forgetting

This just came to me right before I was getting in the shower, so I thought about it all throughout my shower (no I will not tell you how that worked out, you perverts!) and this is what I ended up with once I got out and typed it out. Because obviously I couldn't have done this IN the shower.

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"S-Severus!" Harry cried just two doors down the hall. _Blast it... _Severus Snape snapped the book he had been reading (somewhat distractedly for the past few hours) shut and threw it down on the deep green bedspread he was lounging on. _That's the _thirteenth _time this _month_! _He fumed inwardly as he rose to his feet and began striding toward the door, only to return to the side his bed and pace. He remembered what it had been like as a teen, on that was struggling, no less...

For the past few months, Severus had been confined to Grimmauld place alongside Harry. They had, over the course of living together for a number of weeks become at least... tolerate the other. Recently, though, Harry had been having a... difficulty in keeping his... _personal _activities to himself. Harry had been forgetting a nessesity to the act of doing that particular activity that one does at least once in their lifetime whether they want to admit it or not: A silencing charm.

That had been the thirteenth time this month Harry had shouted out his name as he came into his own hand. The thirteenth he had heard, at least. For all he knew, Harry had remembered it a few times and had just forgotten the rest of the time. Mostly, he had called out his given name, Severus, but five times, he had screamed the name Snape, and once, even, _proffessor_.

_I can't bloody take it anymore! The Boy is driving me mad!_ He reminded himself once again of the pains of being a teenager. A _gay _teenager. Potter no doubt had even more pressure weighing down on him what with the whole "savior" thing. But as another moan of extacy resounded from the room down the corridor, he gave in. Finnally, he gave up to his will power (he thought himself better than to have to put up a silencing charm; he thought he had enough self control to not need them) and charmed his room to be impenetrable to the rucus of Harry's late night rituals.

Severus sighed with relief of the silence, and flopped down on his bed. Normally the motion would be inappropriet to his regular habits, but he was alone, and... as much as he hated to admit it, Potter had changd him and gotten him to be a tad more laid back. Picking up his book, he read on in the comfortable silence, enjoying the peace. But soon, a few seconds after he'd gotten though with a _sentence_. the quiet became unsettling and the noise was back. Severus recasted the charm and groaned when he found that his charm was working fine. The moans he was hearing now, were result of repeatdly hearing them and they were now echoing about the chasms of his mind. This was the last straw. He would have to talk to Harry about it in the morning... over breakfast.

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Snape meantally groaned in annoyance at what he was about to have to do as he poured himself a cup of his morning brew. He whiffed in a refreshing, wakening sniff of the black Jamacan coffee with his large nose. He simply stared into the dark brown liquid, however, glancing up every so often to glance at the kitchen door, waiting for the resident hero to walk in. He sighed aloud and took a large gulfo at last.

Finally the teen stumbled through the heavy oak door and muttered his good morning as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. He sported a mused pair of blue cotton pajamas and even-more-so-than-usual messy hair. His glasses were on the tip of his nose as he scrubbed with his hands beneath them. Sitting down at the table, Kreature brought him his daily bowl of captain crunch and Harry did little more than push it around as he had lately when Severus was around.

"Eat, Harry." He said firmly before gulping down another third of the bitter obeyed, albiet, messily. He had one of the red pieces stuck to his chin. Severus had an odd stirring within him but he resolved to ignore it. He couldn't become distracted from the task at hand.

"Harry..." He began and the teen glanced up at him blearily and then quickly averted his eyes to stare at a particularly interesting bit floating in his milk. "You... It has come to my attention that you have a rather embarrasingly common aptitude to fail to put a silencing spell in place when you retire to your chambers in the evening..." Harry froze and his eyes bulged in realization of what his potions proffessor was telling him. The boy stared back stunned at the realization that he had indeed forgotten on, several occasions, to make himself unheard. Eyes bright green and almost scared looking, Harry dashed up the stairs and scrambled into his room after slamming the door out of haste, not spite or anger. Severus could hear the faint retched sounds of sobbing and sniffling, completely noticeable in the emptiness of the manor.


	2. ch 2: Confrontation and Acceptance

Chapter title: Acceptance

Author: Werewolftrixie (WWT)

Characters: Severus Snape and Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape/ Harry Potter

Rating: teen (for now)

Warnings: Slash (duhhh), past tense emotional and physical torture and teasing (sounds silly, but some people really can't take it, and implied sexual abuse (if you squint really really hard)

AN: Okay, originally, I had intended this to be from one POV per chapter, but that ain't gonna happen. I'm just not that good, so this chapter goes back and forth a bit.

Also, I'm looking for a sort of... semi-beta, I guess you could say. Essentially, I'm going to post the stuff, and you pick it apart and send me your corrections! Easy peasy. You don't need to go really heavy duty, pens-a-blaring, gun-ho on it or anything, just some suggestions and catch a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Hug n' kisses,

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Wolfie 3

Harry sobbed heavily into his pillow, his body heaving with the cries wracking him. He clawed at the pillow, pressing his face farther and farther into the soft fabric, wishing he could simply smother himself to death. _He_ knew. Severus Snape knew he was gay. The last person he'd ever wanted to find out his dirty little secret. And on top of all that, Severus knew that he was the object of his, Harry Potter's, affections.

This was just about the worst it could get. Wrong, actually, it would get much worse, now. Harry could imagine it now: Severus would avoid him like the plague, scurrying out of the room every time he was near, just as his friends had at first when he'd told them. He had finally managed to get the former death eater out of his shell and to relax and even to be civil towards him and others. And now, all of that hard work would be washed away as if a hurricane blew through because of his own foolish carelessness. Now, he'd never be able to reap the minute benefits of all that labor. Never again would he be able to innocently peer into those rich dark orbs, or to sit across from him in the library late at night, reading and sipping coffee or hot cocoa.

Harry began bashing his cranium against the pillow. It didn't have the desired effect of beating his out his brains out. The sobs, which had gradually softened, came back with a vengeance in full flow. Harry stiffened and stilled his blubbering when he saw, or rather sensed, the crevice below the door darken unmistakeably with the feet of someone. It was not hard to guess who it could be.

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Severus leaned up against the solid door, contemplating what to do now. He had expected Harry to freak out, the angsty age he was, but not to bunker himself in his room and cry his eyes out. If he had known this would be Harry's reaction, he would have been more subtle.

Cursing his habits, Severus turned to knock on the dark oaken door, but stopped just as his fist was a mere inch from the old rough wood. He sighed softly and dropped the hand. Settling his forehead against the cold oak door, the Slytherin attempted to sort out his thoughts. He quietly, as if a silent phantom, turned around once more and slid to a sitting position on the floor. Severus put his head in his hands. Curtains of his long, silky, jet-black hair tickled said hands. Obscure thoughts about his locks sought out to cover up and distract him from his precious, not to mention wholly more important task.

_I really should start putting it back in a ponytail now that I've allowed it to grow to such a length- _No_! I really must not allow myself to get sidetracked from the task at hand!_

He was brought back to his senses by a soft sniffle coming from within the room behind the closed door. Severus stood and turned, now determined more than ever to confront the lad. The snuffling seemed closer somehow, but the potion master deemed it his ears playing tricks on him because of his racing heartbeat. He had no idea what he was going to say to Harry. Should he be more himself and go with the "knock some sense into him" approach, or would it be best to be sympathetic and supportive, sweet almost? Messaging his temples, he concluded that he may not be able to keep himself calm and collected._ Especially with Potter's ceaseless sniveling_. He placed his ear to the door and one of his pale, bony hands on the knob. _Perhaps a setting in between my usual and a softer demeanor would suffice?_ He mused. Nodding to himself, Severus rapped on the door, the other hand resting on the knob even though he knew very well that Harry had locked the door.

"Harry... Harry, stop your incessant crying and come out of there already. It isn't as if I'm angry with you." Actually, although he hated to admit it, and a bit shocked at how it made him feel, he was a tad flattered by the boy's admiration; he'd never truly had someone interested in him romantically to this magnitude. After a few minutes of waiting (thank Merlin Severus was such a patient man), Snape heard the lock being unlatched.

"Y-you ar-aren't?" a rather pathetic version of the boy savior peeked out. His face was red, blotch and puffy from the tears that had consistently run down his face. His nose was running and drippy and his normally fierce, vibrant green eyes were duller than the norm. Harry scooted aside and slunk towards the large four-poster bed decked out in red and black. Upon his setting himself gingerly on the edge of the bed and drawing his knees up to his chest, Harry eyed the elder wizard-who was still stood serenely in the doorway, leaning against the door frame- with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Slowly, Severus picked his way towards the comfortable bed and sat next to Harry. He placed a smooth, pale hand on the younger man's back, rubbing softly, tracing the vertebrae in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. By the way he could feel the boy's heart-rate increase and his breath had hitched, however, it was clear that it was having other effects. Quickly, but not totally abruptly, he removed the hand from his back to lay in his own lap. Harry's eyes, he noted, dimmed at the loss of contact.

"Harry, it is perfectly normal for one your age to become fond of someone the same age or older." he paused for a moment to study his younger counterpart. "Quite frankly, it may be the most _average_, _normal_ thing about you." Harry looked up forlornly, about to argue, as he felt that Severus was lying to him to make him feel better. But the Slytherin silenced him before he could begin. "The fact you like someone older, Harry, is most ordinary," he glared at the boy to let him finish, "and the fact that that someone happens to be a former teacher makes it even more so." The messy haired you man tried in vain to pipe up once more. "_Nor_ does the fact you like men, change this."

"But-"

"Would you just shut up, Potter," he growled, temper beginning to rise and get the better of him. _Why can he not just leave it at that? _ "Now, why don't you go get something to eat? Surely, you are quite spent after being so distraught for such a period of time." Sullenly, the boy-who-lived nodded and rose from the silky red sheets, moping his way out of the room. His messy raven-locked head hanging and his sock feet scuffing as he went.

Pitying the boy, Severus made no move to get up, lost in a reverie of painful memories. He could remember the emotional torment he'd personally gone through when he'd come out of the closet. It really caused only to further James Potter and his gang's teasing and bullying activities. Drifting in and out of full conscience- Severus really hadn't gotten much sleep with Harry's late night activities- He relaxed, hardly aware that he was lounging back. Now he laying splayed out on the soft bed, the soft red covers surrounding him in a pillowy cloud like sensation. His eyes fluttered closed, sleep winning over his strong sense of decency and decorum.

His dreams were not pleasant. Once again, he was hanging upside down, suspended in the air by his very own spell. Young Severus Snape frantically grabbed at his robes as James began to magic them off in front of the messes of other cruel students. This particular time, however, was worse than the previous ones. This was where the already horrible gibes became truly brutal. The jeers and and taunting, insulting comments were now revolving around a certain trait of his and it was not his seemingly greasy hair or his love of books and the dark arts. James had recently found- and displayed to the whole of the student body- his personal journal. Within, he'd spilled his heart out, including his true sexual preference; that he was a poof. And now, the lot of them were teasing him, some of the more homophobic types were going so far as to throw things at him.

He shifted in his sleep, tossing and turning a bit from the vivid dream, his face scrunched up in pain. Who ever said "words could never hurt you" should rot in hell; they obviously never saw the bruises from the beatings he received for his feelings. One should never underestimate the power of words. All that pain caused by a few pages of chicken-scratch in a little black leather bound notebook.

Hehe! So, there's another chapter. Sorry it's taken so long. In the middle of writing the chapter, a friend of mine (or more like mentor) contacted me with suggestions on writing. I ended up going back and redoing a lot of what I had so far, so I'm taking forever, and quite frankly, It's not much better than it was before. Anywho, I'm practically begging anyone who wants to beta this to contact me! I have most of the next chapter written, it just needs to be typed, edited, and beta-ed, also. Thanks to Reiko Katsura for your suggestions! Hope you'll get back around to me eventually!

Wolfie3


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